Sunday, May 25, 2014

poem || Jeff Harrison


tinsel and imagination, back!
human by nothing
not "There, you're hungry? Up the street."
but "Riddle midnight, that's a real swamp."
warn the covered beginning, you, belles...
belles, listen... riddles, crowd, ROSE!
meaning break of bitter these flesh-said increases
you burn with -- oh wasn't us enough?
mouth and eye save. inwardness light! this me.
the bite quince of the thousand taste: you broke that...
ever on bled years, ever on dewy crossing

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